My Friend (rewrite)
by Starsplay
Summary: Spring Court servant Raey escapes from years of abuse from Tamlin and the Spring Court. She makes her way across Prythian to the fabled Night court, seeking her home and family. But can she face her past and her demons, in order to break free and love again? Basically Rhysand's sister is alive but none of the Court of Dreams know, but then she finds them again.
1. Chapter 1

Sarah J Maas Fanfiction

A/N: I do not own any of the locations or any familiar characters; all rights go to the incredible Sarah J Maas.

I used to think my life was nice. I used to think it was good. My parents had good jobs working in the Spring Manor, and there was not much wrong in my life. Until my parents died that awful night, when Night's High Lord came and murdered Tamlin's parents, then died himself, leaving young Rhysand as the High Lord, and Tamlin as one too.

Tamlin moped for days, and it was visible to all of us when his grief turned to anger, and that anger to rage, which hardened into something hard and gleaming, and infinitely dangerous.

My grief over the loss of my parents was the worst I had ever felt, still is to this day. And then the rages came. He would lose control, shattering through everything, destroying rooms at a time. He never thanked those of us who cleaned up those rooms and replaced that furniture from the surrounding towns. Lucien helped. He calmed him down, and always thanked us afterwards.

Despite the rages, I still believed my life was good. I was payed. I had enough to pay the Tithe every time it came around. But then the War came. Endless hours of serving tea in meetings between the High Lords. Of cleaning up Tamlin's rooms after he lost it again and again.

Finally, years later, we had peace. The Wall was in place, the humans free below it. I was happy. But then came the women. Tamlin's women. His toys. Playthings. He only took the lower faeries, or the High Fae without families. The ones who no one would fight for. He took them against their will and used them for his own pleasure until they broke. Either mentally, and killed themselves, or physically. I can still remember the night.

Tamlin was in his room with his latest toy, a small woman called Magenta. She was a tiny High Fae, delicate boned and short, and very pretty. She screamed when they came. She had fought against the lords' sons when they came to collect her for Tamlin's purposes. She had screamed and screamed. Tamlin called for the nearest servants, and I went running to his room. I opened the door.

Tamlin lay on the bed, tangled in the sheets. Magenta lay beside him, her body broken and twisted. She wasn't moving. He said he had heard a crack. He had literally used her until he snapped her spine. He had killed her and didn't seem the least bit sad or regretful about it. If anything, he seemed annoyed that now he had to find another one to use until they died.

I can still remember the night they came for me.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah J Maas Fanfiction

A/N: I do not own any of the locations or any familiar characters; all rights go to the incredible Sarah J Maas.

I was sleeping in my small bed, at the back of the servants' quarters. The door to the hallway was at one end of the long room and bunks occupied the rest, set two abroad, with a walkway down the centre. My bed was a moderate size, and at the very back, the furthest from the hallway. I had lain awake for hours, thinking about nothing in particular, then fallen into a restless sleep.

I jolted awake at a thud coming from the hallway, accompanied by low swearing. I slowly rolled over to my other side, so I could see them better. They were two of Tamlin's favourite guards, one of them called Hart. The other's name I didn't know, but he had a brutish face, all angles and rough edges, and didn't look very light on his feet, tall and broad-chested as he was. It appeared that he had hit his head on the doorframe in the low- ceilinged servants quarters below the manor.

Hart and Mr Tall Guy came down the walkway, like they were trying not to wake anyone, but everyone was already awake. The snores had stopped the moment footsteps had sounded. Everyone wanted and was terrified to know who Tamlin's new toy would be. Only Mother Sangia and Sister Markove were safe. They were too old for Tamlin to bother with. They would last even less time than the others, which averaged about a week, and wouldn't be as pleasing to him as the young women, barely more than girls.

The two men stopped beside my bed and glanced at each other briefly before Tall bent down and picked me up, restricting my arms and grabbing my feet so I couldn't move. His hand pressed against my chest, and he smiled cruelly down at me at what he found there. There was no point in struggling; I wouldn't win this fight. I only moved enough that his roaming hands wouldn't feel the scars on my back.

He brought me to another room that I hadn't seen yet.  
"This is the room where you'll be staying as Tamlin's mistress. Don't get too comfortable- you won't be sleeping much." He said in a gravelly voice and smiled cruelly at me once again as he and Hart walked out. I turned and assessed the room. I had been in here before. It used to be light and beautiful, all tones of gold and pearlescent white. It had been Tamlin's mother's room. Now it was dark and gloomy. The light fixture covered in cobwebs and dust, the walls slashed to pieces, long gashes covering them. Only the bed, a new bed, made of dark mahogany and dressed in dark grey sheets, was untouched.

I lay down and slept. The next day, when I rose, my friend Cath stood there. I greeted her as I would on any other day, but she didn't reply. She kept her eyes averted, and said,  
"Tamlin requests your presence in the formal dining room." That was the last she ever spoke to me.

That night, I wandered back to my room, more alone than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah J Maas Fanfiction

A/N: I do not own any of the locations or any familiar characters; all rights go to the incredible Sarah J Maas.

As I entered my room, I waited until I heard the door shut and locked behind me. My shoulders slumped, and I let out a deep breath. Today was hard. I'd been through worse, but I'd lost my edge in the past hundreds of years. It's been so long since I trained, or did anything other than clean rooms and dust counters.

I walked over to the window, my bare feet sinking into the carpet, the hem of my ridiculously low-cut dress brushing my toes. I propped my elbows on the window frame and stuck my head out the window. The night air caressed my face and I breathed it in deeply, the breeze refreshing my senses.

Memories assaulted my head as soon as I stopped moving, thinking, doing. Phantom pain lanced up and down my spine, and I tugged on that bridge in my head, the ribbon that attached to another mind, so similar to my own. Yet so different. Gone. No longer on the edge of my mind. A severed bond.

The wind tugged at my long dark hair, but no longer whispered it's secrets me. Choking back a sob, I turned inside, and stepped away from the window. From that doorway to freedom. That promise of days past.

Morning came and went, and with it another day of boredom. Women who had once worked beside me, even been my friends, were now unafraid to say what they'd been thinking the whole time. Whispers flew past my head, swirling through the haze that clung around my head.

"Fake faerie…"

"Human filth…"

I knew what they spoke about. While I _was_ a faerie, and I possessed very little magic, I looked just like a high fae. Except for my rounded ears. I had never been over the wall, but I imagined that the humans would take one look at me and send me away. The glamour wouldn't fool them forever. And all it would take is one touch to my back for them to know I wasn't one of them.

In that moment, I made a decision.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Raey _

I turned around, breath coming faster now, and ran into the room. My feet silent against the plush carpet, I ran towards the bed. I had a break tonight. I had a chance.

I grabbed blankets from the bed, thin ones mostly, and one warm thick one, even though it was always spring here, didn't mean it was spring where I was going. I ran to the oak wardrobe and ripped open the doors, almost frantic at this possibility, this hope like a breath of fresh air.

I dug down to the very bottom, where a used bag lay. I'd stolen the pouch off a guard some years ago, and this morning I'd returned to the servants' quarters just for it. Someone else was in my bed. They'd already replaced me. I grabbed the bag and turned, thinking about the journey I would soon face.

I grabbed clothes at random, tunics and boots and thick leather pants. I took a moment to change out of my flimsy, revealing dress and into proper hiking clothes. I looked beside y bed, where a tray lay with the remains of my dinner. The bread was hard now, the soup cold. I forced down as much of the soup as I could and stuffed the bread into my bag. After a moment's consideration, I grabbed the apple too, and placed it gently on top. I ran to the bookshelf in the corner of the room and grabbed a couple. Never a good idea to travel without reading material.

I heaved my bag onto my back, so much heavier than when it was empty. Much heavier than the small trinkets that were all I had lifter for many years. I let my magic probe ahead and felt the minds of the guards patrolling the outer wall of the manor. I was careful to locate Tamlin- in his study- and his new buddy Lucien- in his bedroom.

I turned towards the open window and scanned the visible grounds. I could sense no malevolent faeries in the area other than the guards, who had a strike-first-ask-questions-later policy. I stood there for a few minutes and determined the walking patterns of the guards.

The next time the guard underneath my window turned away, I slipped through the frame and clambered down the wisteria growing on the wall. I was glad I had changed into pants and sturdy boots, or this would have been much harder.

I snuck through the hedges, the crunching of the gravel muffled by my magic. I crept closer to the wards around the manor, and pushed my power through, cleaving a small, undetectable doorway through the High Lords magic. It took very little effort.

I glanced back at the darkened manor that had been my prison, but also my haven, for hundreds of years. I knew I would have to go far to get away from it, but my goal was worth it. Even if it was so far away. Even if it was the furthest tip of Prythian. The Night Court.

A week in and I was starting to think this was a bad idea.

My survival skills were a little rusty, almost non-existent, and my combat skills were much the same. I was exhausted, and I felt weak, but I had finally reached it. This Spring Court border. I knew the ancient laws by heart, and exactly what I had to do to get across it.

The tunnels lay ahead of me, looming in the otherwise bright afternoon. I was so close to escape. I just had to walk through. I stepped towards the tunnel that lead directly to night court territory and took a deep breath. I was so close.

But I was tired. I was tired, and hadn't eaten for almost a week, the minimal rations I'd had running out days ago. And thanks to a run in with some Naga, I was also bleeding. Still, although it was a few days ago now. Four gashes across my shoulder, poisoned and festering.

I had been violently sick all of yesterday, and blood was still trickling out of the wounds. I dropped my pack, its weight too much. Now I only had the clothes I wore, and my blade, clutched in a bloody hand.

I shivered, the fever running high. I knew I wouldn't make it far, but If I collapsed now, I would make it nowhere. I stumbled forward, my feet dragging, and my back slumped, my arms wrapped around my middle.

The tunnel loomed before and around me. The dank air swarmed around me. The light faded into the distance as my footsteps echoed around the cold, rough-hewn stone walls. My vision faded in and out, or was that just the darkness of the tunnel? I wasn't sure, my grasp on reality fading. So close. I was so close. I felt the shift in the air. The freshness. Light bloomed ahead, moonlight.

I sucked in a breath of cool, familiar air, my heart stabbing with memories, and stumbled out of the tunnel I felt the wards that surrounded the whole territory. I was approaching them. I delved deep inside myself and used the majority of my remaining power to cleave through them, tough though it was. I only ensured my glamour was secure before I collapsed, shaking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Raey_

I dreamt of wings.

Flapping, dark, propelling through the sky.

The cold air twisted around me, and I shivered. I curled tighter into the blanket, the warmth. I frowned. There was no blanket, just a warm hard- body. A person.

That was when I realised I was awake. And – _flying_. Pressed against a warm body. My eyes snapped open, but all I could see was darkness. I quickly checked, but my glamour was still secure. A hand rested over my eyes, an arm curled around my back, holding me tightly. My back. I tensed, hoping for a miracle, that the person wouldn't feel the raised scars across the plane of my back.

"Don't worry," a deep voice boomed. I jumped. It must think I'm afraid of the flying.

"We're almost there." It said. Almost where? I hoped somewhere friendly. I just wanted to escape Tamlin, not land myself in more trouble. We landed, jolting slightly, and the hand over my eyes moved away. I gasped, shaking slightly.

Moonlight flooded the palace, the white marble glowing on the mountaintop it sat on. Around us stretched mountains, snow glowing on their peaks. I shivered, even though the air was warm inside the palace. Vases of flowers lay strewn on side tables, couches sprinkled around the room like droplets of rain, random, but orderly nonetheless.

The arms holding me set me upright, and I swayed, my exhaustion taking over. The hands caught me. I looked up into the face of the man who held me. No, not man. _Illyrian._

_Cassian_

The girl was odd. She reeked of spring court and was wearing their clothing, so definitely from there. She wasn't anyone I knew, no one important, so a servant probably. But those scars on her back. What could have given her those? I was reminded of a time during the War, when I saw a lesser faeries wings ripped off. The stumps looked like the way her scars had felt. Ropy and lumpy and full of pain.

The girl herself was quite plain. Looked about 20 in human years, but that didn't mean very much. Unless she was human. Which was quite possible. The ears, rounded, the appearance, with no scales or claws, and no magic. Or at least any I could sense.

But those scars.

I set her down, her warm brown eyes taking in the palace around us. Rhys needed to see who had cleaved the wards for her and sent me to retrieve her. He would be meeting us here, as soon as he finished some business with Keir. I didn't envy the girl, Rhys was never pleasant to deal with after interacting with the Court of Nightmares.

Her short blond hair floated on the balmy breeze that drifted through the palace's halls. She wsa pretty, in a plain sort of way. She wore a tunic and leather pants, and sturdy boots. She had had some nasty wounds when I found her, but I had healed them during the flight here. She had nothing else.

Then she turned around.

And her eyes.

They flashed, flaring with recognition, with fear, with anticipation, trepidation, anger, misery, frustration, sorrow, and above all pain. Tears welled up and she stumbled back a step, her breath catching in her throat, a strangled sob tearing out of her body.

She knew me, but I didn't know her. And by the looks of it, I had done something terrible.

"It's alright," I said, trying to soothe her. "I won't hurt you." Those damn eyes shined with such misery at that statement, I almost stepped back. But I was the general of Rhys's armies. I would not allow one lesser faerie to subdue me.

I could see her pulling herself together, a mask of carefully concentrated fear, a show of perfect wariness. A tiny, scared façade.

"I-I'm sorry… please don't hurt me," she said, her voice rough, but too perfectly broken, too perfectly stuttering. She was hiding something. Lying. I decided to let it slide, Rhys would find it anyway.

"I won't hurt you, I promise. None of us will," I soothed, hoping to calm her down. "Rhysand will be here soon. He just needs to ask you some questions, and then we will send you on your way."

She looked like she was about to say something else, but at that moment, a clap of thunder boomed through the room and shadows seeped into the corners. In middle of the darkness, two figures formes. Az, the shadows swirling around him, his blue Siphons glowing, and Rhys, in all his dark glory. I felt the girl sway, shaking and fretting.

"Hello, Darling."


	6. Chapter 6 and 7

Sorry about the delay, and the format of the last two chapters.

I tried a new format and it didn't work, so thank you to everyone for pointing that out to me, and I have fixed it.

To make up, here's two chapters.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

**Chapter 6**

_Raey_

"_Hello Darling."_

The words echoed through the room. So familiar, that purr. But so different. Harsh. Cold. As if I was a stranger. Which, I guess, I was. He no longer cracked jokes and smiled at me. I could feel the difference, too. The most powerful High Lord in history. He was so different. A few hundred years would do that to a person. And I'd changed too, I guess. Mostly for the worst.

I realised I had been staring at him for far longer than was appropriate, but I couldn't stop. He was still as beautiful as the day I'd left. But something was missing.

"Your wings…"

Instantly, they shut down. The kind open face of Cassian turned to cold stone, impenetrable and closed. Ice formed over Rhys's eyes, and the shadows swirled around Azriel, lurking behind Rhys. The shadows swirled around me, and he winnowed us all away.

A dark room formed around us, stone walls and a long wooden table. A council room. And an interrogation room. I knew what I had done wrong. An outsider wasn't meant to know about the wings, especially a runaway Spring Court servant. I decided to play it off, to pretend that I was talking about Cass or Az's wings.

Rhys sat forward and looked at me. Three figures appeared beside him. Before I knew it, dark bonds wrapped around my biceps and legs, securing me to the dark stone chair. I would be intimidated by the scene, the dark High Lord flanked by his general and spymaster, and his second in command. And the Morrigan. I could sense her huge power even though she'd out a damper on it. I would be intimidated, but I'd seen them all drunk out of their minds and laughing together, teasing and free.

"Who are you?" The smooth voice boomed through the room, deadly and toned. I swallowed. Speak softly, perfectly meek, perfectly broken. An act.

"I-I'm just a servant, sir. From the… the Spring Court." Lie.

"Why are you here?" From Azriel this time, his voice like the shadows that curled around him.

"I-I needed to escape, sir. I lived there for almost my whole life. Tamlin is falling apart. He's abusive and doesn't help his people. Please sirs, I needed to get out." Truth.

"Why come here?" Rhysand again.

"I didn't know where I was going, I just picked a random tunnel and left." Lie.

"Are you human?" Cassian, his voice rough and deep. This was interesting. I supposed I seemed human, but surprising they couldn't scent it on me. My glamour was holding up well to fool all five of them. Morrigan tilted her head, her golden hair shifting, and scented me. I decided to play into their deduction.

"Yes. My parents were slaves in the court. I was raised there. That's why I asked about your wings," I gestured to Cassian, "I've never seen wings like them before." Lie, lie, lie.

I could tell none of them really bought it. There was no way a human could survive an infection like the Naga had given me. Then there was the matter that when I'd mentioned the wings the first time, I'd been looking directly at Rhys. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to get out of this. I'd just have to escape the court entirely. Leave my home again. I couldn't face them.

I felt a shift. Rhys's eyes darkened sightly. Then I felt it. A probe in my mind. I had to make a decision. Should I a) use my power to make it seem like there were no shields around my mind and create a fake life for him to peruse or b) let him meet the barriers in my mind, barriers that no human should have. I steeled myself. His probe of darkness slammed into a wall of adamant. I saw him reel, his eyes flickering but his body never moving. I wonder when the last time was he'd encountered a more powerful daemati. Perhaps never.

**Chapter 7**

_Rhysand_

I'd had a crap day. I'd had a meeting with the Illyrian warlords with Cass, arguing about the females right to train. Their extremely backwards ways had worn my patience thin, and I wanted to go home to Velaris. But then I had a meeting with Keir in the Court of Nightmares. More frustratingly backward males, more masks and coldness.

And then the wards. I'd been discussing normally, planning their eventual deaths when something of immense power cleaved the wards. Just one place, at the edge of the territory, a small doorway. But to have been able to break his wards, it would need to be a being of huge power, an unencountered foe. Then a life force slipped through, and I'd immediately notified Cass, who'd gone to get the girl. I excused myself from the meeting with Keir and had gone to meet Cass.

The girl was odd, and clearly lying or hiding somethings. When she saw me, her eyes flashed with recognition and unspeakable sadness and pain. And then confusion entered her eyes and she'd spoken. About something that no-one should know. She must be a Spring Court spy, or in contact with one. I immediately transported all of us to an interrogation room in the Court of Nightmares and called Mor and briefed her on the situation.

Now, she was answering our questions compliantly, but she was lying, or hiding something. She was clearly a very skilled manipulator, but she seemed a little rusty, a little unsure of herself. As we asked more specific questions, she was getting more and more uncomfortable as her lies grew depth and became easier to break. I could wait until she gave in and told us everything. Or I could tak it out of her no doubt unprotected human mind. I decided on the latter.

I snaked a tendril of my power towards her mind, expecting to find an unprotected mind. Indeed, there was no barrier I could sense. I flung the tendril of power into her mind, and-.

Slammed into a wall of adamant.

This didn't make any sense. I tried to break through it, go over or under it, find a chink in the armour of the wall, but there was nothing. I put more power into it, but there was nothing. An unbreakable wall. I glanced at my Inner Circle, perplexed. We'd done nice mode. It was time for a harsher approach.

"Okay," I said, "I'm going to ask you some questions. And you are going to have five minutes alone to collect your thoughts. And then you are going to answer them truthfully or I will break into your mind and get the answers myself." The girl winced but did not look afraid. Odd. I winnowed the three of us away from the room, giving her a moment alone, and us a moment to discuss.

"She's lying." Cass said immediately. "She's hiding something."

"Let's go around and say what we've gathered from the conversation so far," Mor commanded.

"She's lying and hiding something." Mor.

"She's not human." Azriel.

"She's probably a spy." Cassian.

"She's in league with someone powerful." Mor.

"She's a powerful daemati herself." Me.

The room fell silent, and I could feel their eyes on me.

"Before I offered her the ultimatum, I tried to break into her mind. She has the strongest shields of anyone I've ever met." I explained, "I couldn't get in."

"So," Morrigan started, "we have a supposed 'human' who can keep out the most powerful High Lord in history, and she is, or was, a skilled manipulator. She's clearly very powerful, so it's possible she broke the wards on her own. That means she's definitely not human. Why would she be in the Spring Court and why would she come here? None of her story is adding up." We all considered it in silence.

"Also," Cassian spoke up, "she has scars. On her back, hire scars. I don't know if they are from the Spring Court"-I almost snarled at the image – "or from before, but they felt old. Like decades or centuries old. She showed no signs of continued discomfort from them either, so that adds to the theory."

I thought about her story, and about what my court was telling me. I declared that she'd had her five minutes and winnowed us back into the room.

''You are not human. Your story does not add up. You know things you shouldn't. Who are you?"


	7. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Raey_

''_You are not human. Your story does not add up. You know things you shouldn't. Who are you?"_

I had to decide what to tell them. They knew something was up with my story. I missed them. I missed my family. I missed my home in Velaris. Heck, I even missed the Illyrian war camps. It had been _so long._ And I had done so many terrible things. How would they ever accept me again? But I had to try.

I'd long ago accepted my past and my fate, and I had to hope that my family would do the same. If I didn't try to bridge the gap, the other side certainly wouldn't. If I didn't reach out, our hands would never touch. If I didn't leap, I would never reach the other side.

I jumped.

I would tell the truth, but not the whole truth and see how long it took them to figure it out. And when they did, I would drop my glamour for the first time in many hundreds of years.

I took a deep breath and really considered what I was about to do. If they knew who I was, what I'd done, not only were they in danger, but the only family I've ever known could, probably would shun me. I was coming back to them broken and hunted; I had left them and hadn't returned for hundreds of years. I had no useful skills or information. I deserved their shunning.

But I needed them. They were my heart, my strength. My family. And we'd all done terrible things and hurt people. And I missed them. Very much.

I smiled.

_Rhysand_

The girl leaned back in her chair, the front legs tipping off the floor.

She smirked, lounging in the hard stone seat.

"I," she began, "Will allow you-" I scoffed "-to ask me some questions. I will answer yes or no. And at the end of these questions, you will guess who I am. And if you are right, I will remove my glamor."

I jolted. Not only were her terms and claims ridiculous, but none of us had detected the glamour. How was that possible? I didn't know. It shouldn't be possible.

"You have three minutes to agree to my terms. Bye-bye now." She winked and made a shooing motion. Disgruntled, but with nothing else to do, I winnowed myself and the rest of the inner circle away.

Immediately I turned to them.

"How does she have a glamour? How did none of us detect it? Is it even possible? And we still don't know who she's working for or with. And why is she not afraid?" Cassian burst out.

Mor stepped forward, "She could be working alone. That would explain her complete lack of fear."

I considered it. But how was it possible for anyone to have enough power to break the wards? I didn't know, and the complete lack of knowledge was putting me on edge.

Azriel materialized at my shoulder, shadows swirling around him. His deep voice boomed around us,

"What are we going to do?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"I don't see there's much else we can do. We agree to her terms and try to figure out who she is. She seems familiar with us and is quite powerful, evidently, and quite unafraid. Are we agreed?"

After receiving three nods, I winnow us back into the interrogation room. I smile.

"We agree to your terms, but we want to clarify a few things before we begin. First, what is your name?"

She tilted her head.

"Millie."

"Well Millie, how many questions do we get?"

"Well, I'm willing to negotiate, but I was thinking around 10?" Her voice was smooth and deceptive.

I glanced sideways.

"Twenty," I responded.

"Deal." She jerked her chin at us. "Go."

I sat forward and laced my fingers in front of me. I would have to ration my questions carefully.

"First question. Is your name really Millie?"

"No."

"Are you working for or with someone?" No way she could have broken the wards alone.

"No." Nevermind.

"Are you human?"

She glanced behind me consideringly.

"No."

"Are you high Fae?"

She hesitated. Her blonde hair floated on her shoulders.

"…no."

She sounded unsure. As if the answer was not quite truthful. No. As if the answer was not quite correct.

"Are you a lesser faerie?"

She winced, and replied in the same hesitant tone,

"…no."

I sighed in frustration. I needed to find out her lineage and power.

"Are your parents alive?"

Her eyes shifted from mine to somewhere over my shoulder.

"No."

"Do you have any siblings?" I needed to know if she had any family left at all. "Are they alive?"

Her eyes darted to my face and away again, her throat bobbing as she swallowed harshly.

"One. Yes, they are alive."

She didn't even give the gender away. This girl was good at giving away very little. Too good for it to be a natural skill.

"Have you received training?"

"Yes."

"In what?"

She quirked her eyebrow and leaned back.

"Right." I said. "Yes or no questions."

I considered where to focus the conversation next.

"Are you mortal?"

She seemed to chuckle to herself slightly before glancing back at me. "No more than you are."

I contemplated the answer. Immortal, but could be killed. Curious.

"Do you have magic?"

"…yes."

"Did you break the wards alone?"

She swallowed, her eyes darting around the room. Her posture tensed, and she licked her lips nervously.

"Yes." The voice was full f hesitation, but underneath it all lay a vein of confidence. If this girl was telling the truth, she had broken the most powerful wards in Prythian, and hadn't burnt herself out. And she hadn't shattered then crudely, she'd carved a doorway into them, a feat that required great power and great control. This girl really was a threat. I needed to know where she had come from. Who was she?

"Are you from the Spring Court?"

"No."

"Are you from the Winter Court?"

"No."

"Are you from the Autumn Court?"

"No."

"Are you from the Summer Court?"

"No."

"Are you from the Dawn Court?"

"No."

"Are you from the Day Court?"

"No."

"Are you from the Night Court?"

"Yes."

Impossible. If she was from the Night Court, we would know her, or at least know of her. But then again… maybe we did. She had mentioned a glamour, after all.

"Do you know us?"

Her eyes flickered over us as she glanced at us, the wickedly amused façade dropping for a second to expose a frightened _child. _But that didn't make sense, as she was so powerful. Why would she be frightened? Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and infinite sadness filled those impossible deep eyes. She hauled the mask up with visible effort and attempted a smile, which missed the mark, coming across as a watery grin.

"Y-" Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and took a steeling breath. Her back straightened. Her eyes hardened.

"Yes."


	8. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Raey_

It hurt. It hurt to see my family looking at me with nothing but mistrust and suspicion in their eyes, backed by a deep unfamiliarity. They didn't know me, and by the looks of it, didn't want to. Their questions had run out, and by the looks of it, hey had no idea who I was. Typical. Rhysie was getting rusty.

I forced the cold, unfeeling mask back up, and reinforced my glamour.

"Well. Time's up. You get one guess and then I'm leaving."

Rhys frowned, violet eyes narrowing. I felt as bonds of dark magic wrapped around my limbs, as if restraining me. How cute. I could tell that he had no idea. None of them did. I guess 500 years was a long time. Still, disappointing. I had thought I was a little more memorable.

"Why should we guess anything? You're trapped here. We'll get the information out of you eventually. Just tell us."

I tutted.

"That wasn't part of our deal at all. I'm sad to go, but I must bid you adieu."

Rhysie scoffed at my entirely insincere tone, but his eyes widened in panic when he registered what I said. He leaned forward, lunging for my arm.

"Wait, sto-"

His voice disappeared, as did the image facing me. I had winnowed to the borders of the Summer Court, my second favourite court, after my home, of course.

I sank to my knees in the forest, roots and pebbles digging into my flesh as I stared at the sky. The faint pull in my gut had started when we'd landed in the mountain palace, a gentle but insistent tugging just above my navel. I hadn't felt this pull for a while, a couple hundred years at least.

A bit of background: There are different worlds. Worlds just inches from ours in the fabric of reality, worlds that brush and touch each other every second of every day. Worlds that are endlessly connected by branches and webs, a never-ending circuit. Some worlds are endless darkness. Some worlds are eternal light. Some hold humans and Fae blessed by the gods. Others hold gods cursed by the darkness, and all of them are connected by pathways. Pathways that can be traversed if you know the language of the gods. Of the gods, of the Mother, of the three-faced goddess. The language of power. Wyrdmarks.

523 years, 8 months and three weeks ago, the High Lord of Spring killed me and my mother. We were on the way to meet my brother, and they killed us. Don't listen to what they tell you. Death is cold. It is dark and cold and numb and endless. There is no other side, there is nothing waiting. They hacked off my wings before they had the mercy to kill me. Then they sent my head in a box down the river.

My soul was drifting there in the void. I was sure it was the end. It was forever. Then a glowing thread bound around my and pulled me out, trapped. In our world there are many beings of great power, including sorcerers and witches. Both are rare, but it's even rarer for them to work together. Siblings, united in their thirst for power. That's why they combined their power and made me a new body. Identical to my birth body, healed from death. And then they made a soul-binding contract. I would live and do all of their bidding. I didn't have a choice. If I had, maybe I would have chosen to spend forever in that blank emptiness. I don't know.

They knew of the Wyrdmarks, I don't know how, and how to traverse worlds and open doorways between them. Wyrdgates. I became an assassin. Some worlds feared my greatly, some worshipped when I would come to their shores. I spent thousands of years travelling the worlds, trying to forget the family I left behind. I murdered leaders and destroyed armies, with blade, body and power, whoever my masters wanted me to. I had already had great power, but with them behind me, I was invincible.

I was trapped.

I was a slave.

I returned home exactly once.

It was to kill a man and a woman, who the masters had deemed dangerous and likely to war. The King and General of Hybern, a place just off the coast of Prythian. I met with my masters. I had served them loyally for thousands of years, never once attempting to escape. I asked them a boon. They sent me back, brought the three of us back, to the day my mother had died.

But I couldn't interfere. I killed the witch and the sorcerer of the past, and the me of that time died irrevocably. I was still at their service, and while my deeds in other worlds still took place, and I still had fame and fear in many of them, my deeds in this reset world had not happened. So, I killed the leaders of Hybern again. Poison in the drink of the General, and a blade through the throat of the King. There was blood everywhere.

With almost all of their enemies dead by my hand, they decided to seep into the shadows and watch from afar, what became of our world and others. I was set on assignment in the Spring Court, to gather intel until they called for me again. I arrived three days after I had "died," and slipped into the minds of everyone there, including the High Lord and all his sons, and convinced them that they knew me, they had known me forever, I was just another servant, just little Millie.

I was there the night my father came to the Spring Court to exact justice for the deaths of me and my mother. I saw their deaths, I saw my brother again, and his friend, and saw them leave me once again. So, I stayed there for another 500 years, gathering intel, getting their trust, rising through the ranks. Until I decided I needed to leave.

And now I was here. In this forest. The familiar tugging in my gut grabbed my attention, growing stronger by the second. It was how they had always summoned me back to their side, and I knew that if I did not submit to it, it would take me by force, and that was just unnecessary and painful.

I allowed myself to be pulled through the world, the travel so similar to winnowing, but darker, tainted by the power that comes from death and destruction.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins as I landed in the yard of the small cottage on the mountain they shared. The sorcerer stepped forward, his scarlet robe billowing in a non-existent wind.

"Welcome." His gravelly voice boomed across the courtyard, stopped by the wards that circled the place a few metres into the trees.

I bowed my head, knowing what this was about. It had been my job, my assignment to gather intelligence from the Spring Court, and I had left my post without contacting or seeking approval from them.

Pain seared through my wrists as they were yanked together, tied by cold faebane that I had found on Hybern years ago. My hands were tugged into the air, and my knees buckled beneath me, leaving me hanging from his power.

The door to the cottage creaked open, and the witch stepped out, her dark gown flowing over the cobblestoned path as she sauntered towards us. Her blond hair streamed behind her, and her brows arched as she took me in in disapproval.

My tunic and pants were torn and bloodstained from the run in with the Naga, my short brown hair hanging limply around my chin. I lifted my eyes to meet her gaze, and her black eyes pierced into mine, searing into my soul.

In her delicate hands rested a large knife. It was longer than a dagger, smaller than a short sword, and very sharp. She stepped into my breathing space, and smiled, a terrifying, brittle thing. I felt a whisper of wind against my neck.

I glanced down, surprised, to see a few delicate brown strands float to the ground, cut by the sharp edge of the blade. I knew what came next.

They interrogated me for hours, asking me why I left my post prematurely, without command, and ensuring I would never do it again. As they sliced into my flesh, as my blood dripped down my skin, something was different.

Usually during these re-education sessions, I reflected on where I had gone wrong, or why I disobeyed. But then, as they tortured me, all I could see was Rhysie's face, cold and harsh, not recognising me. And Cassian and Azriel, treating me with mistrust. And Morrigan, all her joy tightly under wraps.

And I remembered.

I remembered dancing through fields with Mor, tracing Az's scars in the dark of night, sparring with Cass until I could best him, a huge grin on our faces.

And flying.

Flying with Rhys in the night air, the moonlight shining on our wings, signs of our Illyrian heritage. Soaring with my mother, my father, my _family. _

And I knew why I did it. Why I left the Spring Court.

Why I would do it again in a heartbeat, even knowing the pain that would follow.

Because they were my family.

And that glimpse, that snapshot into their lives, their dynamics, their court, my home was so beautiful. Beautiful to see them as I always knew they could be, taking care of our world.

And so I knew.

It would always be worth it.


	9. AN NOT AN UPDATE

Hey Guys,

So you may have noticed that I haven't updated in a while, and I am so sorry that this is not an update. As you probably know, I update when I have time, and since school has started and with this Covid-19, I haven't had very much time at all to write or update.

I had this story almost completely written out, but then I read it through about a month ago an decided I hated the ending, so my dumbass decided to delete the whole thing, with the intention of rewriting. I know. Bad idea.

Anyway, now it's almost school holidays (or quarantine holidays) and I will hopefully now have more time to write and update. I'm so sorry for not updating in a while, and so sorry for not replying to any comments; I read them all and they really motivate me to write more and better for you guys. I've kinda been stuck on this story for a while, but hopefully in the next three or so months I will completely finish it. And there is a date for the next update!

Next chapter ETA: 14th April, at the latest.

Love you guys,

Starsplay


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Raey_

They let me go after about 10 hours, give or take. It was nowhere near the worst I'd had it, but it still hurt like hell. They were sure I was broken again, heeled, and wouldn't disobey again. And I wouldn't. Not yet.

Because their pain, their torture, had freed me. I remembered. And I knew that I would do anything to get back to Rhys. To my family. But this isn't a story. There's no hero waiting to come save me, kill my captors and set me free. There was no happy ending, not really.

So, I had to be smart. Smarter than before. I would listen for their next assignment, and obey, and when the time came, I would kill them, even in my weakened state, their damper and my own hiding my power.

So it was with new resolve that I faced my next assignment, a plan in my mind and hope in my heart.

~~~

A thud sounded outside my house. I jerked my head up, looking through the mist coated window for the source of the sound. A dark shadow rushed past my window, a soft rustling accompanying it. Then a pounding began on my thick oak door, desperate and rapid.

"Miss Kayla! Please open up! We need your help, _now_."

I recognised the voice. Dorrin Sharna, the village blacksmith. He was a hulking beast, maybe six and a half feet, al muscle, and one of the most gentle and kind men I'd ever met. His wife, Elena, was a small quiet woman. She was 7 months pregnant, and full of life. I knew what this call was about.

Over the past 9 months I had been in the small town, spying on the mayor and his illicit dealing with the High Lord of Autumn, I had earned a reputation as a healer. Any time I used my true power, I wiped it from the minds of the villagers, like I would wipe my stay from their minds once I left. When I first arrived, I had stolen into their minds and convinced them that Kayla Borich had lived in their small community her whole life. She was 39 years old and lived in her mother's cottage, which was a small abandoned shell I had fixed up.  
The fact that Dorrin was calling for a healer was worrying, and probably had something to do with his wife.

I stood up quickly and grabbed my cloak, extinguishing the fire with a wave of my hand, and rushed towards the door. The doorstep creaked as I stepped into the night air, snatching my satchel from its hook.

"Please help," he begged. "It's Elena. The baby's coming."

I nodded. We need to run. The tough ground scratched my feet, but I sprinted along, keeping pace with the larger man.

Their house came into view at the end of the neat paved road, tall and wide and full of a flurry of panicked neighbours and friends. The baby coming two months early was something I had been expecting for a while, but it was clearly a surprise to the others. We burst through the door and Dorrin pointed me up the carpeted stairs, seeming beyond words. I sprinted up them and turned towards Elena's room, doorway bursting with golden light in the early morning darkness.

As I entered the room, three things became clear to me: one, the room was stifling hot, the logs in the fireplace were built much too high, sweat dripping instantly down my back. Two, it was crowded. The local doctor knelt by the bed, holding Elena's hand and wiping the sweat off her gleaming brow, and neighbours from down the road and other streets were crowded around, watching with wet eyes, feeling helpless and hopeless, and three. Three.

One of them would die. Mother or child, one of them would not survive tonight. Elena's cries permeated the air, cut through rational thought and sliced my heart. There was blood on the sheets. Too much blood. The child was coming too fast, too soon, but not fast enough, getting stuck.

Even now, I'm not entirely sure what happened. I sent a wave of my power through the room, and everyone stood up and left, with memories of me taking out various powders and herbs, and intentions of going downstairs for a warm cocoa. I knew they wouldn't both survive of I did nothing. But they had shown me kindness these past months. They had invited me to dinner and fed me on those nights I couldn't feed myself, and helped me when I was sick, and I couldn't let her die. Elena and Dorrin and their beautiful son didn't deserve that.

So, I did something I knew I would come to regret. I put her to sleep, a deep unconscious rest. And I healed her. Completely. I healed her and her son, and, and I cut the cord and I stopped the bleeding and I started her son's heart and then I wrapped him in blankets. And I could sense, deep within him, magic. Flame magic, as befitting of one in the Autumn Court. Stronger than his father's. I put a charm on him that day. He would not die of any illness nor disease, and would be strong, strong enough to defend himself and his family. He would live a good life.

Then I woke Elena and I called out to Dorrin and the neighbours and they rushed into the room, and I rushed into their minds. I planted memories of them crowding around the bed, me feeding her a draught that gave her energy, both she and her child miraculously surviving. They all took the fake memories easily, all turning to her and talking about her miraculous rescue, only one of them, the small sharp-eyed baker, even looked at me. I couldn't let anyone here see my power, or they would surely drive me out or hurt me. Better to be a powerless healer than a powerful warrior, whether I was an ally or not.

That was the first time I really used my power. That was my first mistake.

The days passed slowly, stuck in a perpetual Autumn. The leaves were red on my trees, the days sunny and crisp. I worked in the town, in the bar to earn money that I didn't need as I scouted the mayor.

The sorcerer had received word that the mayor of a small town was part of a larger organisation that dealt in illegal trading of magical goods and items, with members spread all over Prythian, one of them being the High Lord of Autumn himself.

Apparently, the black-market organisation had gotten their hands on a powerful staff, called the Staff of Verdun, which had the ability to drain the power from Fae and faeries and gift it to the wielder, if they were capable of housing it. It was being stored in the manor house of the Mayor of Cowell, a small country town close to the border of the Summer Court.

The sorcerers had decided to send me to the small town to both steal the staff and try to gain information on the operation. I was to stay under the radar and not use my power, to be an unremarkable herbal healer, working most nights at the only bar.

When I stole the staff, I was to wipe my presence from their minds, my unremarkable existence forever forgotten. That was another reason why is wasn't allowed to use my magic. If a feral Naga had been ravaging the town and I killed it, then when a few months after I left, someone wondered what had happened to it, my magic was at risk of failing. They could break through the wall in their mind and unblock their memories, and that would put my secrets at risk if they reported it to the Autumn Lord.

So, I continued my scouting in the day, and at night, I made a point to mingle with the townspeople in an unobtrusive way. In ten months, no one would remember exactly how many people played cards with them that night, or exactly who wiped down their table. I would leave most of the money I earned back in the till, so it wouldn't appear missing, and then I would disappear.

But not yet. I had work to do.

My breathing was even and controlled as I bolted through the darkened forest. My feet blurred over the ground, and my hand clenched as I secured my grip on the wooden staff, it's smooth handle slipping in my grasp. I paused, halting with preternatural stillness, not breathing, making no sound. Faint calls and cries flitted through the night-laden forest, the sounds of the guards pursuing me growing steadily closer.

I closed my eyes. My power flowed through the darkened forest, stumbling over ancient trees and the small critters that nested in them. It reached the guards, and I broke through their measly barriers to reach their pliable minds. Within ten minutes, I had turned them around, back to the manor house, with vague recollections of a wild animal in the woods, that had been dealt with.

Earlier that night, I had broken into the mayor's house and easily made my way to his storeroom, where I opened the safe using the code I stole from the mayor's mind. Inside it lay the Staff, and a few documents that were incriminating proof of his communications with the High Lord. My mission complete, I had slipped out, accidentally triggering an alarm on the way out. I had quickly wiped the existence of the Staff from the mayor's mind, and he would find nothing but ordinary gold in the safe.

My mission was finished, and so I had no reason to remain in Cowell. I hurriedly ran back to the cottage I had been staying at and grabbed the small satchel sitting ready and packed at the door. I snatched my heavier travelling cloak from the hook on the back of the door and locked it, saying goodbye to the small town that had been my home for the past year. In the past week I had been steadily and consistently wiping my existence form the minds of everyone in the town and had met no resistance from the low-level Fae.

I walked through the town, saying a silent goodbye, before picking up my pace on the road out. I was to drop the Staff at a nearby Roadhouse and move onto my next mission, in the Summer Court.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with glorious night air, and tilted my head to look at the stars, shining resolutely above my head.

The townswoman hurried out of Cowell, her footsteps sinking into the mud and she bustled towards the woods around the town. It was dark; in the wee hours of the morning, when fell creatures roamed free, the moon a tiny sliver up above.

She glanced over her shoulder, periodically turning back to make sure she wasn't noticed or followed, her slim figure slipping between the trees to find the familiar grove. As she had every week for the past year, she looked around, waiting for the stranger that kept asking her for information.

This time, she had valuable information for him. The only other bit she'd managed to feed him had been three months ago, when the strange girl had healed Elena Sharna. But now, the girl was gone. The baker had seen her leave an hour earlier on the main thoroughfare, carrying a strange stick, but the fact that she'd left near midnight wasn't the strangest thing about her disappearance. No-one in the town seemed to remember she'd ever existed. It was like she was nothing but an imagined wraith.

The villager had almost thought herself insane, until she went to the old cottage on the outskirts out town and found the fireplace still warm, full of burned logs and cinders.

A crack echoed through the forest and she jumped, spinning n place. Her small stature meant that she often appeared defenceless, prey, and the forest at night was not a good place to be.

Before she could determine the source of the noise, an unnatural darkness began to seep into the clearing, jumping over roots and flooding the whole area, blocking out the stars, stifling her. Into the centre of it walked the man. His cruel smile was the slash of a knife against the dark, kept carefully honed. She gripped her cloak tighter around her as he approached and tilted her chin up with a cold hand.

His voice was dark velvet, and she had no doubt he could kill her a million times before she could even scream. He was always like this, a being of death and cold and dark.

"What do you have to tell me?" She shivered as his voice drifted down her spine and managed to stutter out a few sentences. She told him about the girl, and the fact she had left, and the odd stick she had with her, and the fact that _no-one knew she existed_. Her voice was breathless when she finished, and the man hummed in thought.

"Leave." The command was full of dominance, and a promise of retribution if he did not obey. She didn't argue, and ran out of the darkness, out of the woods.

By the time she reached her home and tucked herself into bed, she didn't remember she had been out at all, and she knew nothing of the strange man.

Miles away, in a cold clearing in a darkened forest, the man thought.

Violet eyes glinted as he disappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N this chapter's a bit shorter and ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, it just really didn't want to be written! However, the next one is shaping up to be both bigger and better. Sorry the updates are so slow recently, and thanks so much for reading! Drop a review and I might update faster ;)

Have a good day/night and enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 11**

_Rhys_

Rhysand was stressed. For the past year he had been doing everything in his power to find the mysterious girl. He had spies in every court, informants in almost every town across Prythian, all of them protected from her mind games.

She was dangerous, that much was certain. She had broken his wards while weakened, and had escaped easily during their interrogation, when it should have been impossible for her to escape her bonds. He was worried about what she would do next, where she would strike next, and if her intentions made her a threat to his court and his family.

He paced up and down the hallways of the House of Wind, the smooth red stone a comforting sight, and stopped at the open glass doors. He stepped onto the balcony and breathed in the fresh air, Velaris sparkling below him. Citrus and sea salt caressed his face, accompanied with the scents of roasting meat, comforting and familiar. From his vantage point, the Rainbow was a tiny cluster of sparkling lights, bright as they warded away the darkness.

She had loved the rainbow, his older sister. Raey, was her name, a long time ago. He still missed her. Missed her smile, missed her cheer. She could always make him smile when he was feeling down, could always make him laugh with a well-timed comment, or a hug. They would sneak out together, sometimes with their mother, sometimes without, and they would fly together, propelling each other along, laughing together, just _being_. When he lost them, he had hunted down their killers, hunted down those Spring Court soldiers who had hurt them. He still blamed himself for trusting Tamlin, for telling him where they would be, for exposing his weakness to the world.

And now this mysterious girl appears. She came from the Spring Court but claims she doesn't work for them. And now for the first time in hundreds of years, he's thinking of Raey. Wondering what she would think of him, if she were still alive.

Wondering if she'd still love him for who he was, or if she would hate him for what he had become. Wondering who she would be, in this bleak world, this mockery of the joy and freedom and peace they once had.

But childhood seemed so long ago, so far away. A foreign country, lost and broken. Torn to shreds by war and death.

Rhys sighed, and jumped onto the railing, shoulders hunched, perched upon the cliff like a forlorn bat, hopeless and dark. His fingers fisted in his dark hair, his wings ruffling in the breeze.

The information from the townswoman six months ago was not helpful. It confirmed his suspicions but gave no new leads on the girl. _Millie_. A lie, he knew. He wondered what her name was. Where she was. _Who _she was.

But he had no time to waste. The war was getting worse every day, and no matter how much Cassian and Azriel tried to mitigate, the tide was slowly turning, and not in their favour.

Some Illyrian warlords had formed a resistance some years ago, resisting his leadership, protesting that he was showing weakness and disability by allowing females to train and fight in battles, and to undertake the Blood Rite. The warlords had begun to gain tract and fighters and now waged a full-on war with his remaining forces and loyal warlords.

If he had the girl, and the power she had portrayed, they could turn the tide in the war. The warlords were so far unaware of Velaris, but that put Rhys in a delicate position.

The Court of Nightmares wouldn't fight, and the civilians in Velaris were not warriors. He needed help and he needed it now. The fledgling nation across the sea, Hybern, wouldn't be much help even if they agreed to ally, and the Fae and humans on the Continent wouldn't risk an alliance with the most feared court.

So far, his band of loyal followers outnumbered the rebelling Illyrians, but the rebels followed no laws, and weren't afraid to sacrifice men for the sake of their cause, or so they claimed.

Rhys plonked his head into his hand, sighing. He should be worrying about the civil war. He should be worrying about numbers and battles and other important things, but the only thing in his head was the girl. The odd girl who seemed so strangely familiar, but to utterly alien. Like a broken reflection of someone he once knew. But he was sure he would remember if he'd ever met someone that powerful before.

She might well be the most powerful person in Prythian, and he had no idea where she was. Oh well. No use thinking about it now.

He tipped his weight forward, falling off the banister, falling off the cliff. He snapped his wings open the wind pushing against the membrane, shoving him into the air. He flew above the city, aiming for the townhouse.

He had just landed in front of the building when the door opened. Amren leaned against the doorframe, her head barely reaching his chest, short hair swaying in the night breeze.

"You're late." Her voice was like velvet, but with an edge to it that promised pain and death to anyone who tried anything untoward. "Why are you brooding?"

"Good evening to you too." He pushed past her, strolling into the living room of the manor house. He nodded to Morrigan, sitting on the sofa drinking iced tea. She looked stunning as ever in her flowing red gown, her blond hair spilling in shimmering waves across her shoulders.

"You ready to go yet?" A deep voice rumbled from the kitchen. Cassian stood in the doorway, his wings swept behind him, Az standing a foot behind him, shadows twining over his shoulders, chewing on an apple. Rhys shook his head.

"Yes, I'm ready to go. So sorry I'm late."

Azriel rolled his eyes and chucked the apple core over his shoulder into the bin. Rhys turned around, heading back out the door, expecting them to follow him, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him, spinning him back to face them.

"Wait. Are you ok?" Mor peered at him, eyes full of genuine concern.

"Of course. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Rhys was confused. He didn't think he'd been acting very differently recently but apparently they'd picked up on something or other.

"You've been distracted lately. You don't pay attention in important meetings; you don't pay attention in normal moments. It's like you're somewhere else. What's got you so stressed?" Amren cuts into the conversation, a mask of disinterest fixed over her face, but he could see beneath that. She was worried too.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but we have a war going on. I'm allowed to be stressed."

"We have a war on, and yet you make time to go to the Rainbow with us for dinner tonight." Cass points out, his two visible Siphons glinting like blood in the dimmed light, the other hidden from sight.

"I'm _fine_." Rhys insists, turning away, prowling out the door. "Drop it."

He can hear them sigh behind him, but he doesn't turn around, doesn't stop. They may be his friends, his family, but he is still their High Lord.

"Fine. But this isn't over." Amren brushed past him, flicking his shoulder as she goes. Only her, only them, his Court of Dreams, would he allow to be so familial with him. Only with them would he allow himself to be weak. But not today. Maybe they would understand, would help him, or maybe they'd be disappointed by his pointless preoccupation. No point in finding out.

By the time they've reached the Rainbow, Rhys' distractedness is the furthest thing from their minds. Rhys breathes an internal sigh of relief that they've let it go so easily, but he knows it won't last for long.

Mor is laughing with Azriel just ahead of him, Cassian the other side of their conversation, something light-hearted currently focused on what type of lamb is better; roasted in a restaurant or over a fire. Mor is voraciously arguing for restaurant prepared meat while Cass is a strong advocate for campfire cooking. Azriel is staying mostly quiet, watching Morrigan laughing, the ever-present shadows retreating slightly.

Amren walks beside them, short hair swaying in the night air, listening to their conversation but not deigning it with a response. They're heading to Sevenda's tonight, a normal, nice night.

Mor will probably head to Rita's afterwards, they'll all go home, and tomorrow, they'll get up and go to war, fighting their own people. But now isn't for tomorrow's stress. Tonight is for fun, for family.

It's peaceful, beautiful.

His family is happy, he is content, the night still and wonderful.

That's when the first explosion hits.


	12. an please read

A/N not a chapter

Hey, guys I'm really sorry that it's been ages since I've last updated, and I'm really sorry for what's coming in this message.

Life has been so crazy right now, and exams have been kicking my ass, and I've had no time or inspiration to write at all. I don't know where this story is going, as the ending I had planned really sucks, and I want to come up with a new one, but I have no idea what to do.

SO

I will be putting this story on HIATUS for an indefinite amount of time.

Seriously, I have no idea when it will be back.

But it WILL be back. This story is NOT ABANDONED!

And please tell me in the comments, do you want:

As soon as I have finished the next chapter update it or

Wait until I have finished the entire story (not too much to go probably) and then do weekly updates?

These next couple weeks I will have time to write more, but I don't know if I'll update in a week or a year.

I'm so sorry to have to do this, but I love you all and will return!

xx stars


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Rhys

A torrent of dark smoke barrels into the wards, the black mist spreading over the invisible dome, tendrils stabbing, searching for weaknesses. The crash of the collision echoes throughout the Rainbow, music halting, dancers freezing.

More and more hits, rapid fire, all in the same spot. I snap into action, my wings bursting from my back, Cassian and Azriel beside me. They each tap their Siphons, their scaled armour descending across their bodies, the other five Siphons appearing.

"What do we do?" Azriel called, his seven Siphons glinting a dull cobalt in the dim night lighting, candles flickering in the shockwave.

I glance up, watching the horribly familiar inky fog spread, unable to penetrate the barrier. It unfurls over the wards like a fishbowl dome, trapping the city inside.

Screams rise through the air, panic seeping through the clouds, sitting heavily in the air itself. People begin to stampede, tables and chairs clattering to the cobblestones, plates of food shattering on the grounds, drinks tipping over.

"Cassian, Azriel, I need you to fly up to the wards, try to figure out if they're damaging the wards, and if you can do anything to stop them. Morrigan, I need you to begin calming people down, get them to the House of Wind or another safe place."

"Agreed." Mor ran off, her hair streaming behind her as she herds scared faeries and Fae towards the red cliffs, reassuring them as she goes.

"Yes, sir." Cassian informs me, launching himself into the air with a few powerful wingbeats, Azriel not far behind. I small cough draws my attention back to the street and the small figure standing there.

"Amren, you're with me."

"What are we doing?" Curious and questioning, but not afraid, never afraid.

"Going straight to the source."

_Raey_

I can't breathe.

The darkness is all encompassing, consuming, suffocating.

I've never lost control like this before, not for years, and now I'm stuck, burning, freezing, falling.

My power is ripping out of me, tearing me up from the inside, destroying and breaking like it was made to do.

It hurts so much.

Pain searing through every part, every molecule of me, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

And I still _can't breathe_.

It was a simple, ordinary assignment. Assassinate one of the Lords of Autumn, run to the Winter Court to await further instructions, and avoid the irritating trackers and warriors that Rhysand continued to relentlessly send after me.

I had been steadily disposing of them after I realised one was a spy a few months ago, but the High Lord of Night didn't know when to give up. He never had.

I had infiltrated the Court, posing as a hired courtier to chatter with the lords and ladies, gathering information all the while. I had decided on a swift death for the mid-tier lord in question, a mediocre warrior, not at all a challenge. I only decided on quick because I had better things to do with my time. I don't know why they wanted him dispatched, but it's not my job to ask questions, only to obey.

I had successfully gained the approval of most of the lords and was finally invited to his bedchamber, where I had decided that he would meet his end. A small blade between the ribs, an extra twist, and then I would vanish into the night. But somehow, impossibly, he had been prepared for me. My knife was stopped by strange armour imbedded in his shirt, solid as steel, completely unnoticeable, and he turned and grabbed my wrist, pinning me to the floor. I was unbalanced, unprepared for his attack and I fell, cracking my head on the stone floor.

Before I could move, he held a strange rag over my mouth, and I was instantly unconscious.

When I woke, I was only vaguely aware of my surroundings. Cold floor, harsh bindings around my hands and mouth, my skin pebbled from the chill. When I forced my eyes open, I was met with a prison cell. But something was wrong, and for a terrible minute, I couldn't figure out what it was, panicking, hyperventilating. Then I realised, with an awful jolt, that I couldn't feel my power. Like the well inside me where it lived was blocked, collapsed, filled in.

Gone.

I stood on unsteady legs, shaking with shock, stumbling towards the iron bars. I peered through them, the icy metal biting into my palms, and froze.

Illyrians.

I hadn't seen Illyrians in years, excepting the small encounter with Rhys, Cass and Az.

I couldn't help but wonder what they wanted with me.

Why was I here? What could I possibly give them?

I lay on the cold floor for what seemed like hours, cold and sore, the bitter ice seeping into my bones, my scars aching.

Soon enough, my fears were confirmed.

An Illyrian, bigger than the rest, a veritable pile of sheer muscle and strength, strode towards me, stopping at the bars of my cell. He sneered down at me.

"Well. If it isn't the little girl." His vice was rough, grating against my ears, like a whetstone over a damaged blade.

"We've heard fearsome stories about you. But I guess not even the Shadow can survive faebane."

My mind still felt sluggish, working slowly thorough what he had said. _The Shadow_? No-one called me that, except for my masters, and not for years. I was their silent assassin, soul darker than shadow, those shadows that once whispered their secrets to me in the blackest nights as I lay imprisoned with my pain.

"Wash her and send her upstairs," he said to the guards outside the bars, "I want her ready for the experiments."

My brain was freezing, my body aching, yet I still knew that these experiments would be nothing good. I couldn't let them take me.

The iron door creaked open, the metal whining, and they strolled inside, the two guards grabbing my arms. I tried to fight, tried to summon that rage, that darkness, from inside me, trying to find some strength inside me, something, anything.

But there was nothing there.

A while later, I found myself washed and dressed in a white robe, a mockery of the innocence I had once possessed, the fabric chafing against my raw skin.

My feet were bound together by a thick chain of that unidentifiable rock, my steps stumbling and unsteady, my hands cuffed and locked behind me. Two guards marched along behind me, a small man in a strange white coat leading me through the black stone halls. I could slip my cuffs easily, and likely take out the two guards within seconds. I probably should.

But that chain was still weakening me, and if I tried and failed now, then I wouldn't get another chance. My only advantage was that they were underestimating me, and I would be damned if I wasted it.

The short man carried a wicked-looking syringe, the liquid inside viscous and dark. I didn't want to know what it did.

Soon, we emerged into a cavern, the walls hewn roughly from stone draped in rich fabrics, decorated with scenes from ancient fables and newer tales. With a jolt, I realised that most of them depicted me. Or at least a shadow in a corner, hovering over the head of some king or lord that I had killed. Unidentifiable, inhuman, monster.

Whoever these people were, they seemed to know a lot about me. Knew enough to know how dangerous I was, and yet only put me in a single set of cuffs and one chain, and thought I was secure enough to only have a two-guard escort.

I _really _didn't want to know what was in that syringe.

Two figures turned around at the front of the room. Two men, broad shouldered, cloaked in in matted fur, thick stone armour covering their shoulders, massive longswords hanging from their belts, huge dark wings looming over their backs. One had a rough-hewn face of dark stone, his eyes like jagged emeralds, glittering in the candlelight. The other, though-

The other.

The startlingly familiar face turned towards me, and I could see recognition in his eyes, but no surprise. Even after all these years, Astor's face was one that I would never forget. One of the most revered and feared warlords, and the one who had petitioned the hardest to have my wings clipped, because I was a pathetic, useless half breed female. They knew I was the Shadow, but worse, Astor knew me from before, and recognised me even with my glamour. Which meant that they knew. They knew who I was. Not just the shadow, not just the assassin, the nightmare.

They knew who I had been.

Warrior, friend, cousin.

Sister.

And I knew that I had to escape. This could ruin everything, could jeopardise everything I'd worked for, all my efforts in these past centuries.

But- would that really be a bad thing? It's been so long, and now, I was so tired.

I just want to go home.

If only home wanted me back.

"Well hello there, little girl," Astor's voice was deep, grating against my ears, causing fear to shoot through me unbidden.

I worked so hard to be strong, so I never had to be afraid again, but here I was, trembling like a pathetic child, memories of pain, the dark, _home_ hitting me and smashing my resolve into shattered glass.

I had to get out of there before their experiments could happen. I had no illusions towards what they would be willing to do to me. My matted hair fell in my eyes as I glanced around the chamber. Across the chamber from the entrance we came through, there was a doorway, behind the plinth the two men stood on, dark and welcoming. It undoubtedly led to more tunnels, tunnels I had no way to navigate.

Casting my eyes above me, I noticed that the chamber wasn't as solid as it originally appeared. Whoever had constructed it hadn't left much support, and the centre appeared to be dipping dangerously towards the floor.

"Patterson. Are you ready?" The other Illyrian spoke, his voice deeper, rumbling and smooth. In another life he could have been a singer.

The strange weaselly man in his strange white coat turned to him. In another life, he could have been left in a gutter and would have fit right in with the rats. Hell, that's probably the only way he would make friends. Rat-man and his rat-friends, running around squeaking away together. They could build houses! He was so short; he'd probably fit inside too. Rat-man and his rat-friends in their rat-house. Great. I'm officially going insane.

"Yes sir. The serum is prepared, and our faeries are ready to do damage control." His nasally voice cut through my musings, knocking my thoughts back into order. Too many hours in the cold without proper food, water or access to my magic had left me dizzy and delusional.

"The girl is weak. Our power detectors have sensed her magic to be about as weak as Lucien of the Autumn Courts. She shouldn't be able to do that much."

"That weak? I would have though she was powerful, you know, being the daughter of a High Lord."

I froze. That was a title I hadn't heard in a very long time. At least my glamour was still blocking out the vast majority of my power, even though I couldn't sense it.

I swayed, my left knee just about giving out as I shifted my weight. Maybe I should sit down.

Strong hands gripped my arms, fingers digging roughly into my muscles as they held me up, leaving me helpless. I suddenly realised that I might not get out of this one.

Between the strange stone, the lack of my power for the first time in forever, and that syringe, things were looking bleaker and bleaker for me.

I just wished I'd been able to say goodbye to Rhysie. Say goodbye, and say sorry, for- well, everything. For leaving, for not coming back. For not being strong enough to fight off the warriors, for not being strong enough to go home.

"Serum test 1, beginning now." Astor's voice echoed through the chamber.

The rat-man strode towards where I was being held up, syringe clutched in his meaty little fist, a horrible smile on his face. The guards moved away, and my arms were stretched out beside me, leaving me defenceless. I struggled in their grip, but it was too late, too late as I felt the sharp prick, too late as the metal shoved through my skin tearing through muscle, too late as I felt him plunge it, the thick liquid shoving its way through my veins, too late as I felt the chains being removed, too late as I felt my power return, but not the same, wrong, _wrong_, too late as I fell to the floor, too late as my insides felt like they were tearing me apart, too late as Astor grinned triumphantly, my vision blurring, my grasp on reality dimming, too late as I drifted away, apart, too late, too late, too late.

Too late as I exploded.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Raey_

It felt like every molecule in my body was tearing me apart. It felt like pain so complete it was past pain, not numb, but e_verythin_g. I knew that nothing else I ever experienced would come close to this.

I could vaguely hear shouting above me, dark shapes moving in my blurring vision.

With the cuffs gone, my power surged back through me, but the glamour was gone, all of my controls, all of my checks blown away. All of my power flowed through me, and it was too much for me to handle. This was why I kept it under wraps, this power to create and destroy worlds, this impossibility that I had never shown to anyone, ever.

My power was surging out of me, the well inside of me tipped upside down, flowing freely into the world. I could feel the earth shaking around me, feel the mountains, the animals, the plants, all of them, all their thoughts, all their desires, all at once.

I could feel the shadows brushing the sides of my mind, their words flowing over and through me, whispering, deafening, aching.

"-too soon-"

"-stronger than expected. Right away-"

"antidote. Knock h-"

-shelterfoodhungercold-

"-go go move now! Don-"

I screamed, the sound tearing out of my throat jagged and raw, joining the cacophony that was the world. Among the sounds, I could pick out Astor's harsh voice commanding the other Illyrians and various faeries scattered around the cavern, their minds raindrops in the tornado that was my senses. I snatched out with my mind and grabbed Astor's sword, gripping it tightly in my hand.

I couldn't breathe.

He told them to ready the second serum.

My body wouldn't move.

I acted on sheer instinct, my most base function.

Find Rhys.

Find safety, home, family.

Rhys.

I burst through the cavern roof, my power pouring out of me in vicious dark waves, destroying everything in its path. Memories flashed before my eyes, I could see my mother screaming, her broken body floating down that stream, Rhys smiling, my father shouting, the faces of all those I killed, the broken screams of the ones left behind.

The begging of the mothers whose children I stole, the silent tears of the children whose mothers I murdered.

The blood on my hands.

So much blood.

Drip.

Drip.

drip

dripdripdrip

drip?

And the drips became a flood, and then my hands were leaking, the sky was falling, the world was breaking, the chorus of voices stabbed my ears, my wings were burning, what wings, the world was dark, the world was too bright, my head hurt, was flying, I was falling, it was all so much.

A second.

A breath.

A moment.

Just one.

But it was enough.

My glamour slammed into place, my power weakened, but still too strong, and I winnowed away.

A familiar blank spot where there should be minds, familiar warding, _home._

_Velaris._

I slammed into the wards, dark power still pouring out of me, and I fell toward the ground, trapped outside.

Shadows flowed out of me, as unstoppable as the ocean, a force of nature, and I could only watch in helpless horror as they started attacking the wards, shaking the city.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

But I didn't control my power anymore. It tore away from me, a separate entity, so much more powerful than myself.

Nobody was safe now.

As it turned out, nobody's name was Rhysand.

As he and Amren raced out to the warding, he sent feelers ahead, his own power spearing towards the heart of that darkness, that monster of death and destruction

Already they could see the area around the figure. Or, what was left of it. Trees ripped from their roots, grass and small shrubs withered and grey, rocks shattered, boulders disintegrated.

Rhys tried to sense what it was, but it felt- familiar?

Like a combination of his and Azriel's power. Darkness and shadows.

As he and Amren sprinted through the wards, he wondered what could possibly feel like that. What could possibly cause this destruction.

And then Amren was blasted away. A strand of power smashed into her and slammed her into the wards, a good ten metres away. Rhys slowed. Whatever could singlehandedly, seemingly easily dispatch_ Amren_ was not a force to be trifled with.

For whatever reason, when Rhys reached out to touch the flurry of power surrounding the figure in the centre, the darkness just flowed over his skin, horribly, achingly familiar. Not harming him, just- cocooning him. Gentle. Protecting. Just like- no.

The shadows pushed at me, gentle fingers trying to get him out of the way, but Rhys knew somehow, instinctively, that they wouldn't hurt him.

He sent a spear of his own power racing into the centre of the furiously roiling mists, seeking the centre. A figure stood there, shaking. He could fear its fear, its pure terror, at- itself?

Why would something so powerful, powerful enough to attempt an attack on Velaris feel so scared? So utterly helpless? And so, _so_ achingly familiar?

Rhys shaped his power into a barrier, a cocoon containing the storm within. He cut it off, stealing the air inside, hoping to knock the figure unconscious. The darkness began flickering, falling apart, letting in glimpses of sunlight.

A figure crouched in the centre, an oddly familiar figure.

"Millie?"

And indeed, the figure was the small girl that had broken through the wards and taunted them in a game of questions months before. The same girl that Rhys' best spies had been tracking across Prythian, yet had found no information about.

Her blonde hair was longer now, but was hanging greasily around her shoulders, tangling in the massive sword attached to her back. That was new.

Rhys ran through their powers and strode up to her.

"Stop this! What are you doing? Why are you hurting them?"

The girl looked up, and for a second, just a second, she was someone else.

Long hair flowed down to her waist, shadows floating around her head. Sharp cheekbones cut through her olive skin, delicate and beautiful, and her eyes-

Her eyes.

Violet as a crystal, just the same as his.

Raey.

Rhys blinked, and the illusion was gone, deep brown eyes staring up at him, afraid and helpless. They shifted from his face to his wings, and he quickly hid them.

But that power kept tearing out of her, not stopping, racing towards the city and slamming on the wards, shaking the ground and sending yet more people screaming through the Rainbow.

Rhys old feel the wards weakening, the constant onslaught draining the power out of him, his teeth clenched against the strain.

"Stop! Please! Or I will stop you," he threatened, but she just kept staring at him with those brown eyes.

He grabbed a dagger from its sheath on his belt and sent it flying at her head.

The pommel slammed into her temple with a dull thud and she toppled over, shadows swirling around her body in worry.

Rhys could feel as the attack ceased, and stopped entirely, the ground calming, trees and rocks falling from where they had been trapped in the air, the wards strengthening once more.

Cassian and Azriel landed behind him and walked up to them, Rhys standing over 'Millie's' unconscious body.

"Well. That was exciting." Cassian's comment had Rhys turning to face them, Amren running up behind, Mor still within the city.

"This is a problem. She broke through our wards, and now she's attacked the city. According to all of my informants, she doesn't exist. We need to interrogate her, but we have no way of containing her."

"What about faebane?" Azriel spoke up, his voice like dark velvet rumbling through the clearing, shadows flying around his head. The girl shifted on the ground and for a moment it looked like she was going to get up, but she soon fell still once more.

A few hundred years ago, they had had an encounter with a rogue Illyrian tribe, one of the first at the beginning of the civil war. The lord had somehow gotten his hands on a strange type of stone that could nullify magic. Of course, Cass and Az had easily defeated him anyway, but they had taken the faebane with them, partly to get it out of the hands of any other rogue Illyrians, and partly to add to their own arsenal.

Hopefully the cuffs would work on the strange girl.

Rhys, still shaken from his brief hallucination turned back to the girl and picked her up. His wings spread wide once more and he spoke to his Court.

"I'll put her in the house of wind. She could probably use some medical attention. Meet in the townhouse in an hour, with Mor, and we'll see where to go from there."

With that, he shot into the sky, soaring towards Velaris, a memory of violet eyes haunting his wings.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Raey_

Consciousness came back to me slowly. First, sound. A quiet but persistent drip, a few feet away from my feet. My feet, where they rested on the floor, attached to my legs, tied to-

Oh.

I was yet again tied to a chair, bound with those odd chains, in yet another prison cell. This was getting very old very fast. The air was surprisingly dry, and the dripping sounds was coming from a sink it the corner. An actual sink.

And I was actually sitting up, not just thrown on the floor.

I liked these captors much better.

I slowly cracked my eyes open, expecting darkness, and was surprised at the dim light that flickered through.

The room was small, but bigger than my last cell, maybe two metres by one and a half. Tile floor leading to a drain on the back corner, table covered with a cloth, chains restraining my arms and legs, torches along the walls, illuminating the jagged shapes under the white cloth- oh.

It was a torture chamber. Whoopee. My favourite. I love torture.

Thankfully, my glamour was still intact, my body approximately 5 foot 4, short blonde hair and brown eyes. Mangled scars across my back, that stayed with me no matter what form I took. Also, it's very skinny, which is highly irritating.

The odd chains were still making me powerless, dragging my power away from my body, but containing it, not unleashing it on the world. Instead of the fear that took over me last time, all I felt now was blissful powerlessness.

As I was checking the rest of my body for injury, my attention was drawn by a pointed cough.

Cassian leaned against the door, arms folded, wings looming behind him, glaring down at me. I think it was meant to be intimidating, but the effect was just slightly lost on the person who had been there that time that Cass fell out of a tree because he was too heavy for the branch. There was much flailing and cursing involved. I've never seen someone so big and strong look so terrified as Cass's face when that branch snapped. He'll never live it down.

"Well hi there. Glad to see you're finally awake," Cass's voice echoed throughout the tiled room, deep and menacing.

I couldn't help it. I grinned. It was just so good to see him again, and it was so Cass to try to intimidate the prisoner by saying niceties.

"Nice to see you too. What happened?" it was an honest question. I couldn't remember most of what had occurred, too caught up in the rush of sensations and thoughts. I only hoped I didn't hurt anyone.

Cassian scoffed, "That's real cute, little miss. What _happened_ is you attacked the secret city that you should not know exists, almost destroyed the wards that should be impossible to destroy, almost killed Amren by throwing her 20 meters-"

I flinched imperceptibly.

-"Terrifies everyone in the city, destroyed two buildings and injured eleven faeries, four grievously so."

I shrank down in my chair as much as I could. I hadn't wanted to hurt anybody. Whatever was in that syringe had made me almost completely lose control, and it was terrifying.

I didn't know how Astor and the stranger had access to something like that 'serum', but whatever it contained was highly dangerous. I lost control of barely a fraction of my power, I realised now, and I almost shattered Rhys' wards and destroyed two buildings easily. If all of my power had been released, I'm not entirely sure there would still be a Prythian. I could only imagine how much damage I would do if they 'improved' the serum. How many people they could injure.

"Did I hurt anyone?" My voice trembled on the end, and I could only beg to a Mother that wasn't listening that I hadn't.

_Please, if anyone's listening, please have kept them safe. Please protect them, even if you don't care to protect me. Protect them from me._

I could already feel the weight of yet more lives on my shoulders.

"No. Fortunately for you."

My head jerked up. Surely I had misheard. I was never that lucky.

"The wards held up, and everyone was able to evacuate the buildings that were destroyed before they came down."

I breathed out in relief, slumping into my chains further.

Cassian grinned at me, but it was not the caring and joyful smile I had come to love. It was a horrible grin, sharp and dangerous.

This was not Cass. It was Cassian, leader of the High Lord's armies. And behind me, where he had stood since I woke up, was Azriel, the Spymaster. Rhysand's chief torturers.

I had no illusions towards what they were going to do to me here. They needed to know how I knew about the city, and they needed to know how I was powerful enough to almost destroy the wards (with a very small amount of my power, but they didn't know that), and they needed to know if I was working for anybody, and they would do anything to get that information, to protect their people.

I didn't know how they'd gotten their hands on faebane, but it was doing its job. I couldn't winnow out of these chains, and I couldn't use my power to heal myself of whatever they had done to me. But then again, I was no stranger to pain. I would be fine.

"Even though you didn't kill anyone, you hurt our people. You attacked our home. That will not go unpunished." From behind me, Az's voice promised pain.

"Are you going to torture me? That's not a very polite way to treat a guest." I chuckled, vaguely expecting them to grin.

But this wasn't Cass and Az, and I wasn't Raey. Not anymore. This was Cassian, Azriel and their prisoner Millie, who had just attacked and almost destroyed their home. They weren't going to be my friends. My brothers.

Oh well.

A fist came flying towards my face, and my jaw crunched wetly as my head snapped to the side. Cass loomed over me, holding a blade to my throat.

"Who are you working for?"

I spat blood on the floor next to his shoe, about to reply (with an incredibly witty retort) when-

The knife cut into my cheek, blade ripping through skin and flesh, along my cheekbone. I blinked in surprise. Cass, fighting dirty. Never thought I'd see the day.

The blade cut my face three more times within a few seconds, two lines down each of my cheeks, not deep enough to cut through, but still enough to leave blood dripping down my face. Even though my magic was gone, I could feel the swift-healing Illyrian blood beginning to patch up the wounds, the edge itching as flesh knitted back together.

"Who are you working for?"

This was going to be a long night.

After sixteen hours, they had broken every bone in my body, removed the skin from all of my limbs, after slicing the flesh like they were preparing a fish, pulled out all of my fingernails, twisted my neck to the point just before snapping, pulled out the hairs from my head, and stabbed one of my eyeballs, and they had gotten no information. They only left because they would have to wait for me to heal before they started again.

I drifted away into my head, stretching my mind outside of the cell, feeling the trees and the animals and rock above me. Interesting. I was underground, under-

I was under the House of Wind.

First time I had been home in centuries, and I end up in a prison cell. Typical. I could feel the figures moving through the rooms above me but didn't have enough power left to see into their minds.

Mor and Rhys were walking to the dining room where Cass and Az waited, freshly cleaned from their blood. Az was flipping Truth-Teller in his hand, possibly considering how much it didn't work on me. The only thing I had told them was,

'I want to make a deal with Rhys.'

Of course, they had ignored me. Rule number one of torture- don't give away anything except the information you want.

The only thing they had said to me was to ask who I was working for. If only I was working for someone less scary than them. As it was, the sorcerers were actually pretty weak, but I had been unconscious when they found me, and the sorceress had managed to snag some of my blood.

She needed to only say the word, and I was dead, bound by the blood magic that she used for everything that required decent amounts of power that she didn't have, dark magic that was slowly and surely corrupting her soul. Not that she cared about that.

As Rhys and Mor sat down at the table, two nymphs walked into the room, bearing platters of food. Huh. They were new.

Probably more of the creatures that Rhys rescued and gave homes.

He was too kind for his own good, but it was reassuring to see that even the darkness and pain of the years hadn't been enough to numb that spark of kindness, of caring within him.

He always was a dreamer, and it was nice to see that he was still staring at the stars.

Probably why he always complained about being tired.

I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but I could sense the frustration coming off Cass. I could still rile him up, it seemed, although he hid it well. They were most likely discussing what to do with me, whether to keep torturing me, kill me (not that they could) or hear me out.

I pulled my head back upright, snapping back into my body as a whisper filled my ear.

-should hear her out. she's powerful, might be able to help us. -

-help us what? she can't be more powerful than you, Rhys, so what would we ever need her help for? Besides, we don't want to kill the lords, just subdue them. -

-if we combined power and put on a display, it might be enough to convince the lords to stand down. We could pretend that the power was all mine, and I've been hiding my true strength all along-

-but how can we ensure that she'll stay on our side? She hasn't dropped her glamour this whole time, despite the faebane. She's tricky, she can't be trusted-

-well we could hear out her deal proposition. We have all the cards, Cass. We don't lose anything by hearing her out-

They had extinguished the torches as they left, likely to intimidate me and make me afraid, or at least uncomfortable. Instead, they just gave me an advantage.

With the total darkness of the room, the shadows were powerful here, and could apparently hear all the way to the dining room. As they whispered the conversation in my ear, I could tell how it was going to go.

Cass and Mor insisted that I be tortured more, or killed or whatever, while Rhys and Az wanted to hear me out. Amren remained silent on the topic, listening to all the arguments.

Mor was going to be swayed first, her compassionate side winning out over her logical one. She would stop arguing, and they would slowly agree to hear out my deal.

Apparently, the war was going worse than I thought. They were desperate for help, and they were right, my power was unmatched. I wondered, as part of my deal, if I could-

No. Surely there was no way. But if anyone could find a way to free me from the sorcerer, it would be them, and then maybe, just maybe, I could go home.

Be free from their command, from their torment.

I wondered what it would be like, to live with them all again. To banter with Cass, talk to Az about politics and science. Lunch dates with Mor, chatting about cute guys, and cute girls over peppermint tea, fighting lessons with Cass where I kicked his ass every time. Discussing books and lore with Amren in the familiar comfort of her apartment. What it would be like to eat dinner together.

To be a family.

And then, after dinner and everyone had gone to bed, when the sky was silent and bight with stars and hope-

to fly with Rhys.

Just like that, my stupid fantasy shattered.

I would never fly again, not after what happened to my wings. And I could never go home.

But maybe, just maybe-

I could be free.

A timid knock on the door announced someone's presence. I blinked back into my body in surprise. Who would even know I was down here?

"Come in?" I called, my voice rough from screaming.

"H-hello." A small figure slipped through the doorway, one skinny arm wrapped around her tiny figure.

Her long dusky hair flowed over her shoulders, where she carried a small basket full of medical supplies. She flitted around the room lighting the torches imbedded in the stone, filling the room with warm, golden light.

Huh. They had sent a healer.

Of course, they had no way of knowing about my accelerated healing and must have wanted to start again as soon as possible. Still, it was nice to see someone new. Someone who wasn't tainted with memories and dreams that could never be.

"I'm Alice. I've been sent here to help heal you after"- she swallowed harshly- "After their interrogation."

"It's nice to meet you, Alice. I'm Mills." I softened my voice, not wanting to scare her. She was barely more than a child. I gave her a nickname of my fake name to make her feel more comfortable, to make me seem more human. Or- more humane at least.

Alice crept forward, seemingly wary of the prisoner, even though I was thoroughly bound. I couldn't blame her. I probably looked like hell on a cracker. Her hands were careful as she pulled creams and bandages out of her basket, trembling slightly.

Her cool fingers were steady, though, as she bandaged my limbs and rubbed ointments onto my eye and my other lacerations. She gently covered my irritated head with a healing gel, and carefully and systematically stitched up the deeper wounds.

After maybe half an hour, she was done, and she packed up her supplies.

"Thank you, Alice. It was nice to meet you. Can you tell Rhys-"

The girl flinched away, probably expecting a death threat to carry. I swallowed.

"Tell him thanks. I appreciate it, and I hope we can talk soon."

Alice smiled slightly and turned away, slipping through the door.

"Good night." Echoed quietly throughout the room, coming from the outside hallway.

"Good night." I gently replied. "Say hello to the stars for me."

Quiet footsteps were my only reply.

Although we had barely exchanged ten words, I found myself hoping to see her again.

Well. Fancy that.


End file.
